


Humiliation.

by Lurking_scarecrow



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Men Crying, Rape/Non-con Elements, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21742411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurking_scarecrow/pseuds/Lurking_scarecrow
Summary: Charles has his way with Skwisgaar in front of the klokateer.Badly written.Definitely mind the tags though.
Kudos: 5





	Humiliation.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk I'm not in love with this.  
> I had the idea and i just could not execute it as I had hoped.  
> Creative criticism or requests gladly accepted.

Heavy breathing.  
How could he be so stupid?

The tall, blonde ran quickly but every way he looked it was more and more obstacles. Eyeless holes in dark sacks over the heads of obedient servants staring back at him grimly. Closing in on him, to certify he wouldn't escape. Without question. Skwisgaar felt hot tears begin to frustratingly strain from his eyes. 

Please don’t catch me.

Running, endlessly. Hallway after hallway, dashing through rooms and slamming doors. Skwisgaar was at his wit's end. His fears caving in on him. Hands of the many servants grabbing at him whenever he began to slow down. The Swede would pass out soon from exhaustion with nowhere to conceal himself. Every move he made thousands of eyes watched him carefully. 

Charles would find him soon.  
Charles would find him soon and ensure he understood the error of his ways. 

Leaving the band and returning to Sweden?

Foolish. 

The clashing of his heavy boot-clad sprints across the marble flooring couldn't mask the collapse peaking in his lungs. Fear coating every inch of his being. Panic set in a long time ago. Skwisgaar felt as if he had been running for hours. He badly just wanted to turn and look into the manager and scream for mercy as he could hear his firm footsteps approach rapidly. 

Skwisgaar finally fell to his knees at another wall of Klokateer. His heart racing rapidly, breathing hard. He cried out in fear. 

“Am’s sorrys, please just leaves me alones I gets it..!” He shrieked out to the older man following him from a ways away. 

It wasn't long until Charles stood over the blonde. Anger, irritation, frustration. All so perfectly displayed on Charles's face. His hands grabbed at Skwisgaar’s shirt. Charles dragged him slightly away from the way of Klokateer and into a vacant room in Mordhaus. One without anything particular in it. A couch, table, etc. Skwisgaar had no fight left in himself to flail or try to escape. He let himself be had. It was inevitable.

“You're sorry?” Charles scoffed, dropping him on the floor “That's all?”

“Amments know whats else you wants!” Skwisgaar gasped for air “Please, ams sorry, just lets me go?”

Charles took off his glasses and handed them to an unmarked klokateer. He slipped off his blazer and handed that to a different servant. 

“Barricade the door,” Charles muttered in an eerie disgusted tone. “If he gets away again it will be much more gruesome than this.”

Skwisgaar glanced to see the klokateer creating more human shields to prevent anyone from coming in or out. His heart pounding in his lean chest. Charles wanted Skwisgaar to know he had power. Not to cross him or the band. He got it. It was evident that he wanted to place so much fear in Skwisgaar he would never wander again. 

But that wasn't all.

Charles’s hands roughly began to tear at Skwisgaar’s clothes in front of the klokateer. Their eyes all on him as he panicked. As he was undressed without any kind of consent. It was as if he was in a horror movie, he could never see their eyes. Only the lifeless holes cut into the sacks on their heads. But he knew they were watching them. Whether they were instructed to watch or just wanted to watch, they were watching. 

Watching Charles remove his grey boots.

Remove his socks. His sweaty and swollen feet from all the running.

Remove his pants and skull belt. His pants were disheveled from continuous falling. 

Remove his black muscle shirt. Drenched in sweat from exhaustion. 

Remove his underpants. Now he was fresh, inviting prey. 

Skwisgaar cried silently as the manager molested his now completely nude body. His clam steady hands grazing the blondes long slender legs. Soft whimpers coming from Skwisgaar. Quietly praying to anyone who would hear him. Come to his aid, come to his rescue.  
Unfortunately, if Skwisgaar was a God he was forever second to Charles. 

Charles turned him and pinned him onto the floor by his stomach, pressing his soft, limp cock against the cold marble. Skwisgaar hissed, earning himself a smack on his ass. 

Two raw fingers tore into him from behind, kneading his insides. Twisting mercilessly. An arm holding his wrists together against the small of the swedes back. Skwisgaar wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight anyway. 

Skwisgaar could not think of anything besides how he would recover from this? What else was Charles planning on doing to him? Did the others go through this? Why weren't the Klokateer helping him?!

His teeth clenched as Charles toyed with his insides. Claiming his ass, two fingers deep. Charles never fucked around. Especially when it came to his boys. Even if it is just one of the boys doing something so foolish all on their own. Discipline and consequences are swiftly delivered if you fuck with Charles bread and butter. 

The unzipping of business trousers was the only sound in the room other than Skwisgaar’s heavy breathing, begging and crying. Charles was ready to breed the elusive little brat. He pulled his fingers from the swede, placing his hands on both of Skwisgaar’s ass cheeks. Widely spreading him to expose to hole to the room. 

“Everyone can see your heat you slut, that make ya feel good?” Charles took his middle finger and thumb and flicked his hole.

Skwisgaar cried out as Charles did this 3 or 4 times. 

Enough games. 

Charles snaked his hand into his trousers and pulled out his hard cock. He had a decent sized cock at 6 inches. It wasn't huge or anything, but, it is not the size that matters its what you do with it. Charles couldn't wait to sink himself into Skwisgaar and destroy his pride.

Easing his knees against Skwisgaars’s thighs, Charles began to mount Skwisgaar easily after fingering him. Skwisgaar desperately begged for him to stop. 

“Ams gives you anythings you wants!” Skwisgaar sobbed loudly “Please!!!” 

Charles didn't answer him, he just slammed his hips square with Skwisgaar’s. He began to grind the swede, earning plenty of small moans and cries as the fucking went on. 

Skwisgaar’s voice trembled with whines and pity as he searched for any eyes to meet his. But he was still met with the same soulless sacks it seemed. They weren't concerned with Charles raping Skwisgaar. Charles was who they needed to listen to and obey. Now their eyes lay firm as they watched the blonde cry out and beg. 

: Pity.

Charles’s hips never stopped moving as he fucked Skwisgaar into the floor like a tramp. That is exactly what he was. A complete slut. Firm hands gripped onto his thighs. Blonde messy hair stuck onto his back in a tangled mess. Charles wished he had done this long ago, sweat building on his forehead from fucking the swede. His insides were so tight and unforgiving. Charles’ cock swelled even more as he railed his heat. His hips kept going. Skwisgaar cried out in agony. 

No thoughts raced around more than others. Skwisgaar's teeth-gritting as he wanted to lash out at the klokateer. Why were they watching? If they weren't going to help why would they not just look away? Why couldn't they grant him that? Why couldn't he run faster? Why didn't he just stay home?!

Skwisgaar sobbed out in desperation for Charles to stop, but it was pointless.

That sweet moans for him to stop, to give mercy on him. This grown man crying for help. It sent Charles over the edge and he burst inside Skwisgaar deeply. Charles groaned slightly, but it mostly went unheard because of Skwisgaar. 

Would the world still want him if they saw him like this?

Charles pulled his raw cock out of the now bawling grown man. He milked himself and sprayed a small bit more onto Skwisgaar’s bareback. Just to taunt his poor soul further. 

Skwisgaar cried into his hands like a child. He felt it, he felt the hot heavy seed fill his insides. He felt his pride shrinking until he had none. He felt all of their eyes on him again. He felt Charles’ hands on his hips again. 

The manager began to redress himself with the assistance of the klokateers, quickly fixing himself. Looking professional once more. He straightened his tie and glasses. Eye pointed down towards his victim.

“Right uh, take him to his room and clean him up.” Charles instructed a small group “The rest of you disperse and tend to your chores.” 

The masked assistants and servants began to leave until 5 were left. They began to pick up the pieces of the broken guitarist. Carrying him bridal style as he wept quietly. They said nothing to him as they carried him off to his room. Skwisgaar hated Charles so much at this moment. What an absolutely sick bastard. He sniffled some more. 

He pressed his face into the chest of the Klokateer that had been carrying him. He felt so much emotion right now, he was so light-headed. Skwisgaar could barely process anything. Mostly anger and humiliation. Was it his fault that had happened to him? The thoughts continued to go deeper. His body giving in to the overwhelming exhaustion. Too many thoughts. Overstimulation. 

Skwisgaar passed out for several hours.


End file.
